Page 138 of Bodyguard By Night

I tightened my hold on the steering wheel and took the road a little too fast. Instead of telling me to slow down, she held onto the handle above the window and let her hair down.

Lemons and the clean scent of her curls slapped me back in my seat. I was a professional, for fuck’s sake. She should not affect me like this.

Futilely, I tugged at the leg of my jeans for some relief.

The blossoms on the trees changed as we passed another type of apple tree. They weren’t as full of blooms and an earthy scent surrounded them.

Finally, the road opened up to a clearing with a rustic structure that was sneakily fortified with steel. Inviting and simple, the distillery was mostly used during the summer and fall months. A large wraparound porch which usually held small tables and comfortable seating was swept clean and bare. An outside bar was shuttered tight against the elements.

Spring was often unforgiving in Central New York, but the Mannings kept a tight ship. The grounds were kept up even on the off-season. They had added an outdoor fire pit and oversized swings off to the side.

Outdoor concerts were held on the edge of the orchard. Beckett had told me that before this, the rest of the property had been overgrown and unsuitable for more expansion. I called this a very good use of the land.

Chaos was leaning forward, her head swiveling back and forth as she took in everything. Before I even managed to park, she was out of the truck, leaving all her gear behind except for her phone.

Knowing she was going to do her Chaos thing, I gathered up the materials we’d need and left them on the porch. I kept her in my line of sight as I took a look around.

The locks were keyless, which was good in theory—unless you were a hacker like this dickwad. I spotted the first camera and the smaller one pointed at the bar area.

Great when they were in full operation, but they didn’t help with a break-in. I pulled out my phone and took a few photos myself. Clay’s security was as good as Aidan’s, albeit simpler here with some cameras and a hub for the Mannings to oversee the orchard.

The galloping hooves in the distance got closer. Beckett shot forward from the back pasture, cutting through the trees, his striking gray gelding casting a tall shadow in the waning sunlight.

He’d swapped his black cowboy hat for his ratty baseball cap sometime between the time I’d seen him earlier and now. He waved at Chaos.

“You’re going to up our marketing game right, Wil? Give us a bump on your show?”

Chaos rolled her eyes. “It’s not a show—exactly.”

Beckett stepped down, patting the gelding’s neck before he dropped the reins to the ground. “Whatever. The girl Justin is seeing freaked out when she heard we were related.”

I leaned on the porch rail. “Since when? He was hitting on a table full of girls when I saw him a few days ago.”

Beckett shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s always juggling a few women.”

“Typical,” Chaos muttered. She started taking video again, moving toward the stage.

“Don’t go far.”

“Yes, Dad.”

I shut my eyes. So much for keeping her safe being a noble occupation. I was now officially her pain in the ass.

I glanced up when Beckett’s heavy booted feet hit the stairs. “I forgot to text you to come take a look.”

“I saw you heading this way.” He pulled off his baseball cap, releasing a mop of curls. He slapped the hat against his thigh and then scooped the mess back underneath. “Feel real bad that someone managed to get into the mill. I don’t know who the hell would want to come all the way out here in the middle of the night.”

That tickle between my shoulders turned into an ache. I wasn’t sure how much to share since we were trying to keep things quiet. But it wasn’t just about Chaos now. “Have you ever had any break-ins?”

Beckett shook his head. “Even the drunk and disorderly types are at a minimum during the concerts. Helps that we tend to have good security. Not that we use them in the off season.”

“It’s kind of out of the way and dark as hell at night out here.”

“Exactly.”

I glanced over to where Chaos was filming or doing whatever it was she did. Her shoulders were relaxed, unlike during most of the trip over.

“Is something going on?” Beckett leaned on the post.

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